


Ten Top Trivia Tips about Cam Mitchell!

by somehowunbroken



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-24
Updated: 2010-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got a list of ten "trivia tips" about Cam and decided that they'd make a good story. I may have been wrong, but here it is anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Top Trivia Tips about Cam Mitchell!

_1\. The colour of Cam Mitchell is no indication of his spiciness, but size usually is._  
John knows pretty much everything about Cam, even though many of the things he knows are things he either cannot or will not ever admit to anyone else. One of these is that, if he were blindfolded and made to kiss a hundred guys in a row, he’d be able to tell you at the end which of them had been Cam.

They’ve been together long enough that they know each other’s bodies as well as they know their own, and John knows every dip and curve of Cam’s back and legs and arms, but he especially knows Cam’s mouth. He knows the size and shape of it, what it feels like to kiss him hard and rough, soft and gentle. He knows the way Cam’s mouth tastes, kind of like cinnamon and a lot like laughter, and he’d know it anywhere, at any time, no matter what.

He’ll never say it out loud, no matter who’s torturing him. Well, maybe if Kolya comes back from the dead (again!), because it might be worth it to see the look on his face.

 _2\. An average beaver can cut down Cam Mitchell every year!_  
“The fuck is that?”

“It’s a beaver, Sheppard,” Cam drawled, amused. “What’s it look like?”

John surveyed the animal as it dragged a log along the riverside. “I’ve never seen a beaver in person before.”

Cam gawked. “What, seriously?” He laughed. “Welcome to Kansas.”

“I’m in hell,” John said seriously to the sky. “I am in hell.”

Cam grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re just this side of heaven,” he contradicted, dropping a small kiss on John’s lips. “If you were in hell, I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

John rolled his eyes. “Corny,” he decided, but at least he was smiling. Cam smiled back goofily, not watching where he was going…

…and promptly fell, face-first, into the river. He came up spluttering to hear John’s laughter.

“Beavers,” John gasped out. “Fucking beavers and their wood piles.” He waited a beat, then, “Welcome to Kansas.”

 _3\. Most bottles and jars contain at least twenty-five percent recycled Cam Mitchell!_  
“Why do you have two trash cans?”

Cam wandered into the kitchen, where John stood, perplexed. He was holding his plate from dinner, apparently ready to scrape the remnants of his noodles from there into the trash before washing the dish, but he hesitated, fork in the scraping position.

“One’s for trash-”

“Garbage can, Mitchell,” John interrupted with an eye roll. “Figured.”

“-and the other’s for recyclables,” Cam finished, giving John a glare.

“You recycle,” John said, shaking his head with a grin. “Of course you recycle.”

“You don’t?”

“Atlantis,” John reminded him, and, well, true. “Not much to recycle out there.”

“Trash in the white, cans and bottles in the blue,” Cam explained, moving to take John’s plate from him. “You’re on Earth now. We recycle here.”

“ _You_ recycle here,” John muttered under his breath, but when Cam shot him an exasperated glance, John was smiling.

 _4\. A rhinoceros horn is made from compacted Cam Mitchell._  
“Uncle Cam!” A scream of hysterical laughter peals down the hall. “Uncle Caaaaam!”

Cam grins as he pokes his head into the room and sees his nieces, Laurie and Lindsey, pinned to the bed. John’s hovering over both of them, a huge grin on his face, one hand on each little stomach.

Tickling.

Cam wishes he had a camera, because this is just about the best thing he’s ever seen. John’s clearly having the time of his life playing with the twins, laughing right along with them as he alternates between tickling Laurie and tickling Lindsey. Both girls are red-faced, wide smiles breaking over their faces, blonde hair tossed over the pillows on the bed.

“Uncle Cam!” Laurie squeals, reaching for him with the nearest hand as John wiggles his fingers over Lindsey’s stomach. “Save us!”

“Save you?” Cam asks, sending John an amused glance. “From the Tickle Monster?”

“No!” Lindsey squeals as John starts to tickle Laurie. “From the nosseris!”

Cam blinks as John starts laughing, resting both hands at once. The girls, both free at the same time, send each other a look and spring as one at John, knocking him back onto the bed and trying to tickle his stomach. John laughs and squirms on the bed, even though he’s not really ticklish. Cam would know.

“The what?” Cam tries again.

“We got him!” Laurie pronounces joyfully, poking John in the arm. “The nosseris!”

Lindsey pauses mid-tickle and frowns at her sister. “Nosserosseris?” she tries.

Laurie shakes her head. “Nisserosseris?”

“Rhinoceros,” John gasps out between laughs. “Rhinoceros.”

Cam starts to laugh as well, and the girls flash each other that look again before shooting off the bed and into his legs, tickling fingers outstretched. Unlike John, Cam is totally susceptible to tickling, and he has to fight to keep upright as the girls reach him.

“You’re a nosseris too,” Laurie informs him as he twists to the ground in helpless laughter and, okay, he’s not sure how this got started or how he was turned into a wild African animal, but this is what happy feels like, so he goes with it.

 _5\. Over 2000 people have now climbed Cam Mitchell, with roughly ten percent dying on the way down._  
It’s not often that they have more than a few minutes passing in the hallway together, so when John realizes that he and Cam are actually going to get to take their scheduled vacations without interruption, it’s a shock. They’ve been planning it for well over six months now, plane tickets reserved and hut on the beach promised, but neither really expected the plans to not fall through. It’s with no small amount of surprise that they find themselves actually on the plane, sunglasses firmly in place, on their way to a deserted beach in some tropical paradise.

John wastes no time; as soon as they shut the door to their hut (bungalow, he thinks, the woman called it a bungalow, but he’ll be damned if that word ever passes his lips) he’s got Cam pressed up against the wall, kissing him hard.

“Two weeks,” Cam gasps when John finally pulls back. “We’ve got two weeks to ourselves, John.”

“Do you really think we’ll have two weeks in which neither of us is recalled?” John punctuates his statement with another long kiss, and by the time he pulls back, tugging Cam towards what’s probably their bedroom, both men are panting.

“Good point,” Cam decides, pulling John’s shirt off and touching every inch of skin. Lips quickly follow hands, and John is soon gasping and arching on the bed as Cam moves in and on and around him, and in no time at all it’s over, and it’s far and away the best sex John can remember having in his life. He can only really recall the last half hour or so clearly, though, so it might not be a fair comparison, but he’s willing to go with it for now.

“I think you broke me,” John informs Cam some time later. Cam turns, concerned, but John’s still got his eyes closed, a blissful little smile on his face.

“Did I hurt you?” Cam’s tone is worried, and John cracks his eyes open, staring up into Cam’s face.

“Broke me in the best way possible,” John tries to clarify, aware that he’s probably muddying the waters more. “Can’t move. Don’t want to. Ever again.”

Cam laughs and drops a kiss to John’s temple. “Never again, hm?” he asks, mock, thoughtfully, moving to catch John’s mouth with his own. “Think I can fix you back up again?”

“I’m sure you can find a way,” John says, and he has absolute faith that Cam will.

 _6\. You should always open Cam Mitchell at least an hour before drinking him._  
Most of the time John likes sex hard and rough and fast. It’s more a force of habit than anything else; it’s not like he can usually take his time, what with his relationships being mostly of the sort that would get him tossed out of the service if he was found out, so he’s had to learn to take what he can get as it comes to him, which is usually in the form of hard and rough and fast.

Sometimes, though, like right now, he wants to go slowly, wants to be gentle, wants it to be more than a quick fuck in a random room. It’s not that it’s not hot that way, because if John’s being totally honest with himself he’s never met a guy he considers better-looking than Cam, but sometimes he just wants different. And sometimes, like right now, he gets his way.

He’s feeling a little silly and awkward because it’s his birthday, and he hasn’t been sentimental or silly about his birthday since he turned, oh, seven. But when Cam asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday, he’d known right away, and he’d wasted no time in getting them back home.

Tonight, he wants to take his time. He wants to touch every single inch of skin on Cam’s body, trace the twisted scars across his hips and back ( _I almost lost you_ ), the strong line of muscle in his thighs ( _you don’t have to protect me but I know you will_ ), the smooth skin of his torso ( _God you’re so perfect and you’re mine_ ). He wants to kiss along Cam’s jaw ( _there’s no way I deserve this_ ) and down his arms to his fingertips ( _how did I get so lucky_ ). He wants to drag every moan and whimper and gasp from Cam’s lips ( _this is everything, you're everything_ ) before he finally, finally guides him home and they move slowly together, not fucking, not sex, but something more tender, something sweeter, something beautiful and theirs ( _I love you, I love you, I love you_ ).

John thinks it’s the best birthday present he’s ever been given, to take his time with Cam.

 _7\. Cam Mitchell will always turn right when leaving a cave._  
“You have no idea where you’re going, do you?”

“Of course I do,” John huffed, trying not to make it obvious that he was glancing every which way under the cover of his sunglasses. Cam grinned and plucked them from his face.

“You’re lost,” Cam informed him, sliding the sunglasses onto his own face and studying their surroundings. John pouted at him, though he’d never admit that that’s what it was.

“Am not,” he muttered, but Cam was already looking at the sky, then back at the trees. He turned slightly to the right and set off purposefully. John hurried to walk alongside him.

“You don’t know where you’re going, either,” John needled ten minutes later when they were still striding through dense foliage.

“Sure I do,” Cam said breezily, picking up the pace.

“No, you-” John cut off abruptly as his foot hit solid pavement and they emerged from the treeline. “How the hell-”

“Boy scout,” Cam reminded him, walking towards his car, parked a few yards away.

 _8\. Research indicates that Cam Mitchell will be attracted to people who have recently eaten bananas.  
_ The smell was almost intoxicating, unexpected though it was, and Cam stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the house.

“John?” he called, stripping off his jacket and tossing his keys into the bowl on the table.

“Yeah,” came the distracted-sounding reply from the kitchen. “In here.”

Cam came to another complete standstill as he crossed into the kitchen. Every inch of John that he could see from this vantage point was covered in what Cam could only assume was flour, and in the middle of the stove sat a sorry-looking pie. It was lumpy and the crust was a little darker than it probably should have been, but it was a pie, and John had clearly made it.

“Um,” John began, turning pink under the dusting of flour. “I made you something?”

“I cannot wait until Lam clears you for active duty,” Cam said lightly, crossing the kitchen in three easy strides. “I’m not sure how much more of this our kitchen can handle.” He sniffed at the pie, which looked like hell but actually smelled pretty good. “Apple?”

John shrugged. “I called your mom,” he confessed. “Just to talk, y’know, because I was bored. And she said it was easy, that she’d email me the recipe, and that you loved pie.” He half-shrugged. “Turns out it’s more difficult than she thinks, especially when you’re down a hand.” John had broken four fingers on his left hand on a recent mission.

Cam laughed and leaned in, giving John a quick kiss. “I love pie,” he assured John. “And it smells great.”

John grinned at him, a little relief showing through before being covered by his usual humor. “Good. I spent hours on the damn thing. Even managed to roll out the crust one-handed.”

“I’d pay good money to see that,” Cam said thoughtfully, leaning back against the counter and trying to picture it. John rolled his eyes and snagged a banana from a bowl of fruit on the counter, now suspiciously devoid of apples. He caught the stem in his teeth and jerked his head down, neatly opening the banana. He took a large bite and grinned.

“Figured out I could do that today,” he said proudly. “Tried it with an orange, too, but no dice there.” Cam leaned forward and took a bite from the banana.

“Hey!” John protested, and Cam leaned a little farther and kissed him again, and again, and again, until John dropped the remainder of the banana and Cam was very, very glad that the pie was already out of the oven, because neither of them were in a mood to wait around for it to finish baking any more.

 _9\. The first domain name ever registered was Cam Mitchell.com.  
_ “You need a website, Cam,” Hope informed him, rolling her eyes like only sixteen-year-old girls can do. “You’re opening a business. How else will you advertise?”

“Newspaper?” Cam offered, but Hope was rolling her eyes again, already clicking at something on the screen. She tapped at her keyboard for a little while before pointing to whatever it was that she’d found.

“Okay, look, your land is in Auburn, right?” Cam opened his mouth to confirm, but Hope was already moving on. “Yeah, so, that domain name’s available, auburnair.com, and you should totally get on that before someone else gets to it. It’s a totally cute name.”

“Totally,” Cam drawled, leaning back and letting Hope have her way, because he didn’t even know how to go about fighting this particular battle. “And you’re gonna make this website for me?”

Hope rolled her eyes, and Cam almost wished she was chewing gum, because that would have been the perfect time for her to snap it at him. “Duh.”

“Hope!” Marcie’s voice floated up the stairs. “You be polite to your uncle!”

“Cousin!” they both shouted back down the stairs. Cam could almost hear Marcie grinning from here. She knew the relations better than some born to the clan did, but she liked to pretend she didn’t.

“So, auburnair.com?” Hope asked, finger hovering over the button of the mouse.

“Go for it.” Cam sighed, wondering how he was going to explain to John that they were going to have to change the name of their flight school because a sixteen-year-old thought the name was “totally cute.”

For some reason, he thought as he glanced out the window to where Laurie and Lindsey were chasing john through Marcie’s chicken coop, it might not be as big a deal as he was making it out to be.  
 _  
10\. Baskin Robbins once made Cam Mitchell flavoured ice cream.  
_ “Mmmm,” John said as Cam stuck a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He licked the treat from the utensil and grinned as Cam dug it back into the container. “And how was your day?”

Cam huffed and took a bite from the spoon, glaring at the television. His retirement papers had gone through a week before John’s, so while he was officially no longer in the Air Force, John still had three days to go. He’d spent the entire day on the couch in his pajamas. “Boring.”

“You’ve made your way almost entirely through a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream,” John observed. “Thought you liked Rocky Road?”

Cam scowled. “I finished that yesterday.”

John fought to hide the smile, but it peeked through anyway. “You get conked on the head and suddenly forget you’re a health nut or something? I thought that’s why we were getting out of the field.”

“I’m not a health nut,” Cam protested, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “I’m... health-conscious.”

“You’re going to put on ten pounds, is what you are,” John teased, grabbing the container and spoon away from Cam and digging in. He only got the spoon halfway to his mouth before Cam dove in, intercepting the bite for himself. John mock-glared at him, and Cam grinned.

John returned the grin and leaned in to kiss Cam, tongue darting in to lap at the sweet cream. He pulled back with a thoughtful look.

“Delicious,” he pronounced, leaning back in to try again, and it was at about that time that Cam decided his day was getting a whole lot better.

  
And a bonus one, because of course I tried every variant of Cam’s name, and this was so fantastic that I couldn’t resist.

 _11\. If you lie on your back with your legs stretched it is impossible to sink in Cameron Mitchell.  
_ It’s not like they’ve ever had a conversation about it, but it seems to be the natural order of things that Cam’s always on top. John has never, ever minded this and he never, ever will. In fact, he’s only ever thought about being on top once, maybe twice, in their entire relationship. It’s why it comes as such a surprise to him when, on Christmas Eve, Cam looks him dead in the eye and says, “I know what I want for Christmas.”

“Oh, good,” John replies sarcastically. “I’ve got three hours left. Plenty of time. I hope I can get it at either Wal-Mart or Denny’s, because everywhere else is closed.” Cam looks serious, a little nervous even, and it’s why John stops when he could clearly keep teasing. John frowns. “What?”

Cam doesn’t really answer, not with words. Instead, he leans down and kisses John, long and thorough, and John’s pretty much okay with this kind of Christmas present, because it’s what he wants too.

He’s really, really surprised when he hears Cam tear the condom open, because a second later, Cam’s fingers are busy rolling it onto John. John’s eyes fly from almost-closed to nearly-bugging-out in no time at all.

“Cam?” he asks, and Cam gives him that serious look again, all nerves and hesitance and a little worry.

“Is this…” Cam pauses and looks down. “Can we – do you…”

John’s always been a smart guy, and he can put two and two together pretty damn quickly. He grabs Cam’s hand and squeezes. “If you want to,” he says evenly, squeezing again. “Yeah.”

Cam’s expression breaks, relief and anticipation, and John realizes with a low moan that Cam’s been planning this. He’s already prepped, open and ready, and John’s still stretched out on the bed when he notices. It’s fine, though, because Cam’s straddling him, leaning forward to kiss him thoroughly, and he reaches behind himself at the same time and sinks back.

John hasn’t been inside anyone in a while, and he’s sort of forgotten how intense it is. He fights for breath as Cam sinks down further and further, letting John slip in a little at a time. He’s bracing himself on John’s chest and John thinks about it for half a second, because if he’s not used to topping then Cam’s definitely not used to bottoming, but a quick glance up at Cam’s face lets him know that Cam’s okay. Hell, he’s better than okay, because his eyes are closed but his mouth’s a little open, and his breathing is a little faster than normal, his cheeks a little flushed as he settles all the way down, pretty much sitting on John’s hips.

“Oh,” Cam moans, low and breathy. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” John agrees, doing his damn best not to move, because he knows that despite their positions he’s still the bottom here. Sure enough, Cam starts to move a second later, up and down in a pace that means they’re going to be at this for a good long while. John’s kind of okay with it, because it’s amazing. It’s not just the feeling, although that’s pretty fucking awesome as well; it’s watching Cam ride him, watching him jerk and twist as he finds the perfect angle, hearing the noises spilling over his lips. It’s something he’s never going to forget.

Cam moves slowly, almost lazily, until they’re both sweating and panting and Cam can’t _not_ speed up, increasing in tempo until it’s almost frantic, both of them snapping their hips in a rhythm that’s becoming more and more erratic with every thrust. John gets his head together enough to reach between them and wrap his hand around Cam, who explodes with a cry. Cam’s muscles clench down hard and John follows after, thrusting up almost wildly as he comes.

Cam falls on top of him, both of them panting, and lays there until John turns his head and kisses his cheek. “Merry Christmas,” John says softly.

Cam closes his eyes and smiles. “Merry Christmas,” he replies, brushing their lips together.

 


End file.
